Postpartum Reflections and Benjamin's birth

It seems like I hit this deeper reflective mode after each of my babies are born. Maybe it's the left-over hormones. Or maybe it's something deeper. Labor, for me, at least is an incredibly moving experience. I tend to shy away from the drugs (partially because the thought of a needle in my back is incredibly unappealing) so I suppose that makes for a more intense experience.

Actually, this brings me to my main reflective point. I have lived enough now (37 years) to generally get a feel for what events/circumstances have been life changing to me. And I firmly believe that surviving labor eight times is the most difficult thing (or things) I have ever done. And assuming my life continues on it's somewhat boring course (that I am in no way complaining about, mind you) these eight occasions definitely have the potential to be the most difficult moments I ever live through.

But just because they are the most physically painful, mentally taxing, and emotionally insane, in no way makes them bad. They each ended with one of the greatest blessings available to any human. But the real beauty is that the blessing goes on. They continue to grow and change and I get to love them every day.

This last time I went into labor, I was tired. I mean, I physically did not sleep all that much the night before. But also, since moving out in the country, I feel my regular boring life has been a bit more of a crucible. We have adjusted well, but there were some days we had no power, or no water, no way to cook, or even no heater! Fortunately most of this initial chaos was settled by the time the date for Benjamin's induction rolled around. 

But we had lived in the city, in a "normal sized" house for 15 years. We have only been out here in the country, in our tiny house, for about 9 months. We are still adjusting. Thankfully, we don't have to worry about running out of power, or water, or heat anymore. But there are a few things that continue to stretch us. The weather plays a huge part in being able to drive our vehicles down the long dirt driveway. It also is key to our sanity some days. If the kids can't go outside to play, it can make for a long long day. Likewise, planning an extra half hour drive to make it to activities and then the same amount of extra to get back home adds stress to life, especially when dinnertime coincides with driving time.

In any case, all these factors definitely had my coping abilities mildly compromised to begin with. Then you add the worries my well-meaning doctor planted that my body would not respond this time or something could go terribly wrong. I found myself testing and trying everything. Does this hurt? Does it feel like last time? But mostly I was just very over it all before it even started. I mean, I knew the baby needed to be out, but I really was not excited over the prospect of another induction. Even the room, which I had had four babies in previously (though not all at once obviously 😁), while being familiar, also carried undertones of the pain I knew was coming.

With all this said, I cannot help but be grateful to those who pulled me through. God bless my husband. I had him doing counter-pressure on my back during the hard contractions. And thanks to my prompting for more pressure, I was definitely sporting bruises from his effort the next day. But his assistance was no doubt exhausting for him. 

And my doctor was always right there, whispering encouragement, directing me, praying with me. She has definitely been a bright spot in all of my labors. 

And all those great labor and delivery nurses. They are just so incredibly NICE and helpful at the hospital I deliver at! My first three labors at a different hospital are a stark contrast to these last five at this other little hospital. Seriously, after my third labor I was so scarred I spent basically my entire fourth pregnancy in absolute TERROR that labor was coming. I feared it like none other. But then, it wasn't that bad. And I still had some residual fear for the fifth pregnancy, but again, other than the last few contractions, it really wasn't too bad either. My sixth pregnancy was my first to deliver squatting and that was empowering and awesome. And for my seventh, my husband assisted my squat which was helpful -- and little Peter was wedged in funny, so it probably was the longest I've ever had to push -- or maybe the first time I actually had to push and my babies tend to just pop out when they are ready, kind of like the timer on a turkey. That is definitely how little Benjamin joined us.

So here is as much as I can remember about Benjamin's labor. And I admit I might remember things a little differently than they actually happened. It would be interesting to check my "memory" with the recorded facts. But without further ado, I will try to recall the points that seemed to matter to me.

I had been taking Primrose Evening Oil since week 37, or maybe it was 36 of my pregnancy. My body never seems to get the message to go into labor, or even prepare, but this herb usually gets me a few contractions here and there and begins to ripen my cervix. This time it got me a "soft cervix" and to a 2 by 39 weeks. So I figured I would forgo the nighttime induction options, sleep once more in my own bed, and just start things off in the morning. But alas, I woke up around 3 am to pee and just could not settle back down after that. I am embarrassed to admit, it was mostly just nerves. I wanted to be sure I had all my ducks in a row before coming in to the hospital. It was SO important for some dumb reason (pregnancy nesting I guess). Finally I climbed out of bed a little before 5 am, to run the generator for an hour (to be sure the house didn't run out of power while my friend Karen was here to watch the kids). I got dressed, brushed my teeth, made coffee for my husband, and even made the bed. I offered to drive to the hospital since I had taken these particular roads and Gordie had not yet, but there was snow on the ground and we both would rather have Gordie driving in severe weather. In any case, we made it to the hospital with no incident.

I got checked in and taken to my room. They came in and got everything started, monitoring me for a half hour before starting the induction drugs. I was planning to try and sneak a nap in before my doctor got there, but there was entertainment instead! Three ladies from the NCK technical college nursing program were there for the day and they asked if they could hang out with me for the delivery.

Now let me step back a minute. When I was being induced with my second child, Samuel, at my old hospital, they asked if they could have, what I thought was, ONE nursing student present. I was like, sure, one more person is no big deal. Well, as it turns out, there was some sort of special workshop for the nursing students that day at the hospital, so when it was time for me to push they marched in like 15 nursing students to witness the event!! Now, I was a little distracted at that point, so I did my thing and was not super concerned about them. But after delivering Samuel, I became aware of my surroundings again and very, very aware that my nether regions were on display for 15 people I didn't know as they cleaned me up and such. It was rather disturbing.

So here I am on my eighth labor, being asked if students can watch and I must admit I did pause a minute to clarify. But they all seemed nice and normal, and they assured me it would be those three, maybe a fourth, max, so of course I agreed. So instead of sleeping, they were asking me loads of questions and enjoying my anecdotes of past labors, etc. Honestly, I enjoyed them a lot as they provided a nice distraction from everything and some entertainment as things in the beginning are so boring. But no rest was happening as I chatted it up.

Finally, the students headed out to do other stuff and the nurses left me so I snoozed a bit -- or tried. I remember my doctor walked in and said something to the effect of, "Mary's in bed. What's wrong? Mary's never in the bed!" A mostly true sentiment and it made me laugh.

Anyhow, things progressed some from there, but incredibly slowly. The Pitocin was started, but barely causing anything. I was kind of depressed for a bit, honestly. I had really gotten my hopes up that this baby would come quicker than the others. That was dumb of me, but I couldn't help it. 

Anyhow, I posted in my bazillion facebook groups that I was being induced and asked for prayers. And then finally I looked myself in the bathroom mirror and turned on my thankful mode to kick the grumpiness. I started by taking a picture of my awesome nursing gown. 

Seriously, where had this thing been my last seven pregnancies?!?! It was comfy and soft. It was pretty and thick and yet still had all the necessary openings for anything that might need to happen to me. And did I mention, it had pockets?!?! Best gown ever. Totally worth the cost, even if I only wear it once -- although I have actually worn it since being home, it kind of doubles as a light robe since it opens in front. But I digress.

Then I remembered that "labor" generally meant work, so I better see what I could do to help things along. I decided to do some walking. Now here is the one part that my little hospital does not excel at -- having a good place for pregnant ladies to walk. In my old hospital they have an entire maternity ward, so you can walk laps and no one but nurses, pregnant ladies, or freshly delivered ladies, are around to see you in all your gown glory, pushing that IV pole. At the little intimate hospital I have grown to love, they have all of two labor rooms. So I have to walk into the main part of the hospital and even then, it's not that far. I easily did at least ten "laps" and barely walked for 15 minutes. But it was something. And it picked up my spirits if nothing else.

So finally I realize nothing is happening quickly and we pick a show to start watching. I decided on the BBC Sherlock series as it is so well done and my oldest daughter, Rebekah (who was with us) had not seen it, so why not let her enjoy something new. We started in. Lunch was served. I had vowed not to eat much until baby was born because I know how food can come back to haunt you in the throes of serious labor. But the food came and smelled so great. I just couldn't help myself. I gobbled up my portion and then promptly fell asleep.

My doctor came in to wake me up AGAIN. Things were still not really happening yet and she never wants to rush me or do anything rash, but she commented that I seemed to want labor to finish today and my body was moving in the right direction. We concluded she would break my water next. I was barely dilated enough for her (she likes to wait until at least a four and I had been a three for pretty much the whole morning). Anyhow, she broke my water and things were still super boring. I had a few more serious contractions, but I could tell I was not the only disappointed one.

Hours seemed to pass (I can't remember exactly how long). Finally my contractions started to pick up -- mostly while I was distracted bemoaning to myself how nothing was happening. I began to ask my husband to give me counter-pressure on my low back. This gave me great relief last labor, so I was all over asking for it this time! Soon the plea for him became less of a, "hey, this would feel good," and more of a "please get over here now and help me through this!" That was when I knew things were getting more serious. After several of those stronger contractions, I was sure things were happening, although not nearly enough to be done.

My doctor checked me and I was at a six. Seriously, JUST A SIX!! It was as if my body was like, "What? Hold my beer." I almost immediately started shivering (a sign of dilation for me -- I wasn't cold) and could feel things moving forward. I could feel the baby moving down with each contraction. At some point in there I remember saying to my doctor, "I know I'm not there yet, but could you maybe stay in the room?" She laughed because apparently I say that every labor and that's how she knows I'm getting close.

I know that once I get to a six or so I'm almost home free. But not everyone else knows that. And my doc was quick to not get my hopes up. I remember telling Gordie later that I went from six to pushing in like a half hour. Gordie said it was more like 10 minutes. -- I have no idea. Time stops in labor. It is like eternity for me. Just living contraction to contraction until I can push and get that baby out!

Anyhow, I lived through several very rough contractions and then suddenly I was TIRED. I mean, I was ready to lay in the bed tired -- that's saying a lot for me. Normally I want nothing to do with the bed in labor -- it makes the contractions worse. I actually laid down right on the floor. I had been kneeling by the bed (the position I spent most of my last labor in) but I just couldn't stay up anymore. My doctor had the brilliant idea to bring in the birthing stool. I was grateful to sit.


 

So things are still progressing. Super strong hard contractions. I tested the waters on one, seeing if I was ready to push. Baby was not quite down yet so my doc was quick to shut that down, lest I damage my cervix and never get this baby out that way.

Finally she checks me again and I'm at a nine. She tells me to breath through two more contractions. And generally I try to do what she says, but in my head I was thinking, "he'll be ready to come on the next one." And sure enough, halfway through the next contraction my body starts pushing on his own. I make sure to squeak that out amidst trying to breath -- that I'm not doing this, my body is!! My doc conceded he was ready and I could go ahead and push, but I was sitting too straight up on the birthing stool, so he was hitting the back lip -- I could feel it. That contraction ends and I'm trying to catch my breath. My doctor says we need to make a plan for the next contraction.

I remember thinking, "well, I think I'll have a baby." But her point was that he couldn't come out in my current position. So I ask what I need to do. She asks if I want to stand up or lean back -- basically I need my legs a little wider. Well, on comes the next contraction -- no time for a plan. I just instinctively put my hands behind my legs and pushed up to give my lower half some more room. Legs splayed a bit more and out pops Benjamin as if it were a slip and slide.

My doctor says, "or you could just have a baby." And the next thing I know she is putting him on my chest. And I'm hollering, don't let go yet, I can't feel my arms! I don't want to drop him! Soon enough, though, I am able to hold him. I look down and he is picking his head up to look at me! And he starts to cry. I know my doctor likes it when they cry, so this makes me happy, too.

The rest blurs. I come out of my intense focus to deal with the pain to see all the NCK nursing students all smiling and happy they stayed extra long to experience that insanity.

Nana decided to witness the event and was quick to enjoy the little bundle. One proud grandma here.

Eventually I decide he might be ready to try nursing. He latches on like a champ and eats happily (with loud swallowing) for at least 15 minutes. Benjamin really is practically perfect in every way.

I do remember feeling INCREDIBLY tired after labor -- like I'm so tired I'm going to pass out tired. And after some ado on trying to pick a name and Gordie leaving to go back to our kids at home, I let Rebekah cuddle the new guy. Then I ate everything in sight (all the snacks we brought and everything the nurse would bring me) and practically passed out. After a good nap I finally felt more like myself again. Cue the happy post-birth hormones. 

Rebekah and I enjoyed Mr. Benjamin for the rest of our stay in the hotel -- I mean hospital -- but that slip happened several times as I referred to my postpartum stay. 

 

Seriously, that place is so great, like staying at a spa, but you get to come home with a kid! They feed you, let you (and your guest gets food, too -- and breastfeeding moms get a snack basket to much in-between meals!) take long relaxing baths in the jet tub, and even bring you warm blankies. Other than the occasional squeezing my arm so hard that I can't feel my fingers (stupid automatic blood pressure cuff) there is really nothing to complain about!

Peter's Labor Story

If you are one of those that is interested in all the nitty-gritty details of a birth, this post is for you.  The pictures are mostly from the previous post - put more in sequence here.

Labor and Birth of Peter Joseph:

I checked in at the hospital at about 3:45pm.  They got me all hooked up to the monitors and let me sit a bit to make sure baby's heart-rate was doing well.  About 4:30pm they decided baby was quite happy and started me on the Pitocin.

Posing for my adoring fans,

I was at a 2 at this point and maybe 50% effaced.  We started watching one of my favorite movies, Stardust.  

I had just discovered the bed could be turned into this "throne" position and thought it was an awesome way to begin my labor.

My doctor made it to the hospital a little after 5pm and checked on me.  I think it was a little after 6pm when she finally was able to break my water and help my cervix stretch a little – all the way to a 4.  

One of my favored labor positions - on the ball.  I often had to hold the baby monitor in the right spot (as I am doing in this picture), despite the belt, in order to make sure it was tracking the baby's heartbeat and not mine.

I was sitting on the ball a lot or kneeling on the floor by the bed, trying to get my hips to open up while watching the movie.  After a while, I finally started having a few more serious contractions – requiring a little deep breathing.  

My dear hubby was making fun of me at this point as I was just starting to breathe through some of the contractions.  Fortunately they were not too bad yet and I had plenty of breath and patience to tell him to shut up.  :)

Then somewhere around 8pm I was noting that things were starting to get serious.  I was feeling – well, just crappy (as I expect at this point in labor) – some nausea, starting to get the shakes – that means things are doing what they are supposed to be doing, though, so I was grateful for it!  

Things getting more serious - Gordie adding counter-pressure.

My doctor came to check me and I wanted to decline, but was also on the fence about turning up the Pitocin or not, so I let her.  I was sadly still only a 4.  This is part of why I hate being checked – not only is it uncomfortable, it is often discouraging!!  Despite this, we decided the Pitocin was at a good place as things were definitely beginning.  Shortly after that, things got serious.  I slipped into a sort-of “quiet comma” where I just blocked out everything and focused on relaxing and surviving contractions.  I was really comfortable resting my head and upper body on the bed at this point.  And Gordie started giving me counter-pressure in my low back during the contractions.  That really made them not nearly as bad as they had been in past labors.  I had Rebekah turn on some music for me – actually it was “The Stations of the Cross.”  Not that I was really planning on praying “the way” at this time, but it is the most soothing tape I have.  Seriously, it calms me and is so peaceful.  Plus, when I could focus again a little after each contraction there was prayer going – it really helped me as I begged God to help me through labor again.  I basically just survived things for a while.  

At some point – maybe around 9pm, I was starting to get really tired and ready to BE DONE!!  (which is usually a good sign that we are close to the end).  I asked the nurses to invite my doctor back in – she was around, doing some paperwork.  I knew things were getting close, but was afraid to tell them my guess on how many contractions were left because it is discouraging to find out there are more than I guessed – but I remember thinking I had probably less than 20 to go – maybe more like 10.  (At this point in labor, surviving one contraction at a time is how I roll.)  My doc kept asking me if I felt pressure and I kept telling her no as I distinctly remember how it feels when the baby is finally down and ready to come out.  I was still kneeling by the bed at this point – down to hands and knees, letting my hips sag back and open.  My doc wanted to check me, but this was an awkward position for her and she had trouble figuring out what was what.  She wanted me to lie down so she could check me and this is where I asked if I could just lie on the floor – which elicited chuckles from everyone.  Then I realized I did not have to ask them – this was my labor!  So I moved to lay on the floor and they all just dealt with it.  

The black shirt is my main nurse, the navy scrubs are my doctor, my husband is in the back, and you can see my head to the left side as they all had to gather around me on the floor - my position of choice.

My doctor checked me – I was at an 8 and I remember asking her how I needed to move to get the baby to pressure my last part of cervix.  She told me the baby was posterior or anterior – I don't remember which, but those words where too “doctory” for me to process at this point, so I just went back to my knees as that had felt the best for me.  

Funny side-note: The commentator on my Stations of the Cross tape would start each reflection addressing Jesus.  And every time my doctor heard him say “Jesus, . . .” she thought someone was cussing and kept looking around to see who was saying it.

Another couple contractions there and I told my doc I felt some pressure, but it did not feel quite as strong as normal but she asked if she could check me again, as maybe it was time to push!!  (I LOVE time to push – finally takes away the pain of the contractions.)  I stood up and squatted a little – leaning on Gordie, who was squatting even more as he is taller than me.  My doc checked me quickly, right before the next contraction and concluded I could push, but I could tell baby was not quite down all the way.  

Pushing.

Anyhow, I started pushing.  Normally a push or two is all I need, but the nurse told me later I was pushing for a couple minutes or so (which seemed like an eternity to me – hah).  My doctor told me later that it was because he was in there a bit crooked, but fortunately I have had enough babies my body was able to wiggle him as he needed to be and get him out ok.  Finally, I heard my doctor say “STOP PUSHING!!” and I remember responding, “I'M NOT PUSHING!!  I'M NOT PUSHING!! - and I was not trying to, but I think my body was doing it anyhow.  I'm not sure why she said that – maybe the cord was around his neck – my babies often come out that way.  Anyhow, she did whatever she needed to do and he was out on the next push – right as my Stations of the Cross tape finished.  

They handed him to me and it was like I came out of my “quiet zone” and could talk to people again.  I remember saying, “oh, hello everyone, nice to see you here” or something like that – because honestly I had not opened my eyes for the past hour and a half – hah.  And Peter (who had no name yet) was absolutely perfect.  

Welcome Peter Joseph!!

Well, we did it again.  Last night I was induced to bring our newest son, Peter Joseph outside the womb, at about 9:30pm.  

Peter weighed in at 7lbs 13oz and shares a birthday with my father and my oldest nephew.  Rebekah joined me for the labor and was my photographer.  I told her she could take pictures of anything and boy she did.  I'm thankful for her capturing the moments as I was "a little busy."  

Rebekah and Peter Joseph

Random funny side-note: We live 30 minutes from the hospital I delivered at.  As we pulled into the parking lot Rebekah informed us that she had forgotten to put on shoes.  I was afraid they would not let her in!!  Fortunately, no one seemed to notice or care.  Only my daughter. . . 

A special thanks to my dear husband who was amazingly helpful and supportive literally - as I leaned on him to push the little man out while squatting at the end.  Normally my babies only take a push or two.  This little guy was wedged in a little crooked, so it was a couple minutes of pushing - nothing really for me to complain about, but I found out later it was a bit of a physical challenge for my hubby to hold me steady while squatting with me!  I am so blessed to have him, my goofball of a husband, to brighten the day and be my rock.

Here I believe Gordie is making fun of my breathing through a contraction, tell me to focus or some such.  I'm pretty sure I snuck in an extra breath to tell him to shut up.

Things were getting serious here.  Gordie was so good at counter-pressure during contractions.  He made this labor so much more bearable than my past ones.

Rebekah took the pictures, but there is a sort of "accidental?" creativity to this one I think.  I was pushing at this point.

Random fun note from this delivery. . .

*At one point I was kneeling by the bed - my favorite position and the doc wanted me to lie down so she could check me.  I remember asking, "Can I just lie on the floor?"  Because I am a big floor person nowadays - honestly I sit on our wood floor at home several times a day.  Anyhow, that question got a good chuckle out of everyone and then it dawned on me that I really was in charge of this labor and could do whatever the heck I wanted, so I laid myself right on the floor for the next couple contractions.  Doc checked me and then I decided I did not like that position to so I was up on my knees again soon, but I'm pretty sure they were a bit shocked by my craziness.

This is not the best picture obviously, but the black shirt is one of my nurses, the scrubs are my doc, Gordie is in the back and my head is to the side.  These poor people had to put up with my labor insanity circling up around me on the floor.  They were so good to me.

*Rebekah took some of the most random pictures.  But I am so glad she was able to document things.  These are totally out of order, by the way, but I'm limited on time and ability to organize them better at the moment, so you get what you get.

Doc in "the booties" - guess we were getting close to delivery at this point!

They had a plethora of ball choices.  This was my first time to sit on a "peanut" ball, but it was surprisingly comfortable!

Monitors and cords everywhere when you have to be on pitocin, but hey, it gets that baby out!

More belts and cords, I think I was posing for this one.

Rebekah was fascinated with my IV.  And I must say, my nurse did an excellent job!  She got it in on the first try and made it super-secure so there was no worry of pulling it out.

This was pretty early on.  I think it was the first time I realized the bed could be made into a "throne" like this - super comfy!!

A bit blurry, but this is my doctor, sitting here in my room, chatting it up with me while I'm in labor.  I am so blessed to have her delivering my babies!  And yes, she is pretty-much this happy and cheerful all the time.

Enjoying one of the peanut balls.  This was still early-on, I'm pretty sure I was watching a movie still here, waiting for things to get "serious."

I am guessing this was taken right as baby was born (as I think his "official time" was 9:24 pm).  I am impressed with Rebekah's thoughtfulness to capture the time.

Zipporah's Birth

It was a dark and stormy night. . . 

Actually, it was a warm day in mid-June.  Since my last four births were inductions I was sort-of expecting the same this time, while trying to be hopeful it would not happen.  In any case, even though I had gotten to the point of planning childcare for the "big day" I was still thrown off-guard mentally at my last appointment when "it became real."  Every time, it seems that happens.  As much as I try to prepare, I am still a blubbering mess the minute my doc says, how about "this day."

I had decided to wait until the next Monday, June 23rd. . . but then as I saw my doctor the Monday before (on my due date, June 16) said she said I would need to come in for a non-stress test on Thursday, I joked about bringing my bag and just staying, but she looked at me seriously and said I could come in on Wednesday (June 18) instead. . . if I wanted.  Goodness, I felt like she had just asked if I wanted my arm or my leg cut off.  I could NOT decide!!  I spent most of the day in agony.  Seriously.  Finally, even though I wanted so badly to give myself more time, it really fit in everyone's schedule (my husband, my parents, my in-laws) better if we went ahead and "did it" on Wednesday.  And after some reflection (especially now that the induction went as it did) I honestly believe if we had decided to wait until Monday, I still would have had to be induced, it just would have been a few days later and a bit more inconvenient for everyone.

So the morning of my induction day (set to begin that evening - around 7:30pm), I woke up early and went for a nice long walk (as was my custom during the later weeks of pregnancy, once my belly became too large for jogging).  It was nice and peaceful.  I was enjoying myself and chatting with God, and suddenly I look down and 500,000 mosquitoes were attacking my legs!!  Seriously!!  Where did they come from and how did I not notice them earlier?!?!  (Well, I was wearing compression pantyhose, and I "feel" those all the time, so I guess that is why I did not notice them earlier, but to have them all attack at once was quite unnerving!!)  I spent the rest of my walk (about 30 more minutes to get back home) looking down at my legs (first front and then back - making my gait quite awkward) every five seconds to check for/swat at mosquitoes!!  I felt like I had gotten jumped in the subway and those 30 minutes were MISERABLE.  All I could think was, "Really, God?!?!  Was that necessary?!?!"  Anyhow, about 10 minutes from home I realized I was early enough this morning that I could probably jump in the shower and still make it to the church near my house for the 8am daily Mass.  My brain thought, "Good idea!!" so I picked up the pace, speed-showered, and ran up to the church only to discover they do not have the 8am daily Mass on Wednesdays. . . only Tuesdays and Thursdays (the days we usually attend with the local Catholic school).  So slap-in-the-face number two. . .

I pushed on with my day, finished packing/prepping the house to be gone a few days, etc. and managed to get my husband and oldest daughter, Rebekah (who would be attending the birth with me), to Plainville (30 minutes away - where I would deliver), not only on-time, but early!!  We got them Dairy Queen burgers for dinner (the husband's favorite) and I skipped because I was too nervous to eat.

Notice my husband's humor. . . he was quick to "doodle" on our white-board.

We had to enter through the Emergency entrance because that is the only door not locked after 6 pm.  The ladies there, though, were most helpful and friendly.  Shortly after getting settled they started me on cervadil.  Although many of my friends have great stories of labor happening shortly after starting this drug, I cannot add my story to theirs.  The best I had were some fairly regular "wimpy" contractions by morning.  Fortunately I was able to sleep fairly well - even in that uncomfortable hospital bed.

So then that morning I had to make ANOTHER DECISION!!  Blargh, why is giving birth full of so many choices?!?!  

(But on the flip side, I am grateful to be consulted.  I should note that when I got there, my nurse told me, "This is YOUR birth.  Whatever YOU want, let us know."  And I really carried that attitude with me.  This is MY BIRTH.  I am in charge and they are here to assist/help.)

I was not eager to start pitocin, but I was not quite ready to "just go home" and come back on Monday.  So we decided to do some walking.  We walked from Rooks County Health Center (RCHC) to the awesome playground at Sacred Heart Catholic School in Plainville.  Although it takes five minutes to make the trip by car, it is apparently about two miles one way.  Who knew?  My doctor was a little shocked to hear that we went so far but my family really enjoys "destination" walks, so this was perfect for us.

After letting my daughter play some we walked on to the local convenience store for her and my husband to pick up some snacks.  By the time we got back to RCHC my contractions (which had been every 3-5 minutes for a minute to a minute and a half long) were getting stronger.  I was hopeful that maybe things would keep going.  Unfortunately as I sat down for a bit back in my room, they practically stopped.

I was grateful for this opportunity to try and "do it on my own" but I finally realized that I NEEDED the pitocin.  So we ate lunch and got it started.  Oddly enough, even with the pitocin, my contractions were not all the regular (which is not how pitocin usually works for me - normally they come fast and furious) and they were not all that strong either (but that is NOT uncommon for me in the beginning of starting pitocin).  Once the pitocin started I had to be "babysat" in case anything went wrong.  But I did not mind because I had an AMAZING nurse.  Seriously, she is THE BEST LABOR NURSE EVER!   What I remember most about her was feeling so comfortable.  With other labor nurses, I know they are there to help me and keep me safe, but there is almost a "fear" about them -a sense of "I have to protect you, I HOPE you will listen to me, and I am AFRAID for what you are going through."  There was none of that with Nancy.  She was completely relaxed and calm and it might have helped that we had similar interests in tv shows and books.  It was as if I had my best friend in the room, although we just met that morning.  Plus she was always reminding me to change positions every so often and suggesting other things to try and help the baby move down and open my hips, etc, but without being pushy or over-bearing about it.  Nancy was a tremendous blessing and I will be singing her praises for A LONG TIME and probably be requesting her if/when I end up delivering at RCHC again.

A couple hours of so-so contractions came and went.  I listened to some soothing music, got bored, watched an episode of Eureka, and then just sat and talked with Nancy for a while.  Finally around 5pm my doc came in and broke my water.  I had been wanting her to do that a bit sooner, but she had some patients to see, some loose ends to tie up, etc.  Since I was not in major discomfort yet I did not mind so much.  I was only at a loose 4 by this point.  However, once she broke my water, I immediately KNEW it was time for things to start happening.  I was nauseous and shaking.  I told my husband to call our birth photographer and tell her the baby would probably be here within an hour.  He looked at me skeptically and double-checked, "really, ONE hour?!?!"  I told him I could be wrong (although deep inside, I did not doubt my prediction) but just tell her "things are happening."  Fortunately, she was planning to come once she got off work at 5pm, so she was already on her way.  (Good thing, too, as I ended up delivering about 50 minutes later.)

This is where I mentally began to go crazy as I KNEW the end was close, but THIS WAS THE HARD PART!!  My favorite position ended up being hands and knees on the bed, with the head of the bed way up for me to grab on.  I had failed to get myself some cute "labor clothes" (one item from the "to do" list that just never got done) so here I was in my old giant t-shirt that I happened to be wearing when I came the day before and nothing else - giant arse up in the air for all to see.  But that's what labor is, right?  :)  At this point though, the pain was getting intense enough I really did not care AT ALL.  Now I care.  But then, not so much.  It was all I could do to breath through the contractions as they were the rough ones.  Fortunately there were only a few - I counted the REALLY BAD ones - somewhere between 6 and 10, I would say and did my best to offer up the pain for the intentions of my friends (that I had carefully listed out and read through earlier).

The handy thing about this position was that I did not have to switch to let my doc check me.  Which sounds silly, but it was a major perk as laying on my back during this part of labor is THE WORST for me.  Finally I felt the baby move down into my pelvis and my doc confirmed I was complete.  Then she asked if I wanted to deliver squatting.

ANOTHER DECISION!!  Sheesh!! 

(I say in jest, of course, I wrote a labor plan and mentally prepped myself for this moment as I really enjoy the pushing part and I wanted to savor it.  If I can say that without sound dumb, of course :)

I had WANTED to deliver in the birthing tub.  It was in my birth plan and everything.  But I knew the minute they hooked up the pitocin that would not happen as you cannot be on pictocin and have a water birth.  I would have to be off the pitocin for at least 30 minutes before getting in the water.  So plan B. . . They had brought in a squat bar, but I was more excited about the birthing stool.

This is might be hard to believe, but this picture was taken as I climbed off the bed, getting ready to push.  I was SO HAPPY!!  Giving birth is such a rush!  Notice my awesome nurse, Nancy, holding the doppler for the baby so they could hear her heartbeat?  She went above and beyond, for sure.  And my doc is behind me, prepping for delivery I guess. . . or maybe tying her shoe?  (LOL :)

In any case, I hopped off the bed, and I remember shouting out my thanks to God for getting me to that point!!  It was like seeing the finish line about a hundred yards out after a marathon.  (No, I have not run a marathon yet, but I would imagine that is what it is like, ok?  On a side note, running a marathon has been added to my "bucket list.")

Pushing.

I decided to just squat and began pushing.  After the first push, my doctor had me stop a minute to check if the cord was wrapped around the baby's neck.  It was not, but I had a bit of a cervical lip, apparently.  So she simply lifted it over the baby's head, easy peasy.  (Apparently that is quite painful, but I don't remember feeling it at all.)  Then another push and out fell Miss Zipporah.

You have to look closely, but down there, right by my doctor's hand, you can see a baby hand.  She just arrived.

I am taking off my shirt in this picture.  So I can put that baby on my chest.

Deliriously happy :)

Cute chubby baby face.

Pure bliss.

I should put this up on my facebook page and ask for captions as I have no idea what Gordie was saying here and can think of nothing pithy to put at the moment.

Here my doctor is giving my daughter a lesson on "placentas."  The other ladies standing by her were "learning" doctors that where shadowing Dr. Brull.  (I was WELL taken care of :)  I really love how she was very enthusiastic about me having Rebekah there.

I was back and forth on having Rebekah come.  When I initially asked her (shortly after telling her we were pregnant) she said she did not want to be there, but then about a week before she told me she could not decide.  Then the DAY BEFORE she said she WANTED to come.  I am so glad she was there.  She was a great help and it was an experience I am sure she will treasure.

I am so blessed to have such a great doctor!!

And I cannot thank God enough for this amazing birth and this amazing baby.  I love you, Zipporah Marie!!